


The Sharpest Lives are the Deadliest to Lead (Or so these Lyrics Would Have You Believe)

by firelord65



Series: Mid 2000's Modern AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, It's grown a plot much to my chagrin, Mall Lurking, Mid-2000's Gothic evil trio, Modern AU, Sadie Hawkins Dance, They're all so badass (aka GIANT IDIOTS), This is basically just a giant throwback to high school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's somewhere between 2003 and 2007. Ben's parents SUCK (I mean, Leia's never around and Han's always working). His friends, Hux and Phasma, are his refuge just as much as his totally PERFECT music taste. If it weren't for their adventures together, his life would just be completely unbearable. If you don't like his style, then you're clearly just too mainstream. </p><p>A completely irreverent fic for these losers. Read along and laugh. Please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They’re gonna clean up your looks with all the lies in the books to make a citizen out of you

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’d like to thank radiojamming / clockworkcourier for fueling this beautiful AU. We all KNOW that Kylo Ren is secretly trapped in the 2000’s emo scene, so why not embrace it? That’s what this is all about.
> 
> Basic info:  
> Ben (AKA Kylo) is 16 and 2 months old, practically an adult already  
> Hux is only a few weeks younger and why does Ben have to bring that up whenever they’re arguing about what to do that night?  
> Phasma is so much more beautifully mature at 18, applying to community college and everything, thank you very much  
> Little twerp Rey who likes to follow them around is eight (at least that’s the best guess the state has) and already knows that Santa Claus isn’t real because if he was, wouldn’t he have brought her better presents than puzzles with missing pieces and maybe some better foster parents? ((w o w am I making myself sad writing this dang))
> 
> Luke owns a farm out in the country and ofc Ben hates when he has to stay there because it’s in the middle of f u cking NOWHere  
> Han runs a trucking company along with his heavily bearded and accented friend who just goes by Chewie - no one can pronounce his actual name (who ever understands Slavic names?)  
> Leia works for the governor, but let’s be real she’s the one who actually gets things done for the state.

“For the _last time_ , no you cannot go to the mall. Your father has to stay late at work tonight and I just don’t have time to drive you,” Ben’s mother explained with tireless patience. She was punching numbers into the phone while she talked, her mind already focused on whatever crisis was gripping the southern districts.

Ben scowled, his fingernails drumming irritably on the table. They were coated in two different tones of black sharpie - Hux’s marker had dried out finally and the ones they snagged from the art department were off-brand. “What if I get a ride there?” he asked, trying to keep the pining from his voice. He did _not_ whine.

His mother already had the phone up to her ear at this point and he knew he was on shaky ground to keep going, but dammit he had fifteen whole dollars to spend. She covered the mouthpiece and sighed. “Fine, but no staying out late.” _Score!_

Ben hopped up from the kitchen chair and immediately made a bee-line for the stairs, knowing what was coming next. “But for the love of _God_ don’t come back with more eyeliner or- _Hello_ Dorothy I’m so sorry-”

He slammed his door closed, pretending he hadn’t heard any of that. He would spend his money on whatever he wanted. Besides, he already had enough to last for at least a few more weeks, provided that Hux didn’t try to steal it again.

Speaking of his ginger-haired friend, Ben swung into his computer chair and logged back into pidgin - only _squares_ still used AIM. Hux was online, of course, with his status set to a series of angry emoticons.

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - just tlkd to the parental unit. good to go if we get a ride.

GNRLHUXXX - oh rly?

GNRLHUXXX - ur dad cant drop us off

GNRLHUXXX - ?*

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - he’s working >:(

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - i kno phas said she wuz free 2nite

GNRLHUXXX - dude she said last tiem if she drove she waz going to make us pay 4 gas

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - she was totally joking

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - i think

Ben scowled and rested his head on his fist. If she _did_ make them pay for gas, that was basically going to clean out his entire wallet. Hux didn’t usually have cash - he was too much of a scaredy cat to ask his dad for money - so Ben would have to cover his portion of gas money, too.

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - can u call her?? mom is on teh phone here

GNRLHUXXX - oh wow shes home 4 once?

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - yup. making my life miserable as usual

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - so you gonna call phas?

GNRLHUXXX - yeah

_GNRLHUXXX is afk (tlking to lady phas :K )_

It took a good five minutes for Hux to get back online, during which Ben wistfully scrolled through his music library. It was seriously lacking ever since his father discovered the source of the mysterious 10 dollar monthly charge was going to his Napster account. There had been shouting, slammed doors, and threats of how much he would regret this when his mother heard about it. In the end the only punishment he ended up with was a serious deficit in _good_ music.

God, his parents could be such _control freaks_. Ben settled on just shuffling everything, punching the next song button until something finally felt appropriate. The starting piano notes from “Welcome to the Black Parade” made him smile, and he clicked back over to his IM.

_GNRLHUXXX is now online ( >:D :PPPP im back you squares)_

GNRLHUXXX - so phas says no probs

Ben grinned. Now they finally had a chance for today to not suck. He’d been dying of boredom since finishing his pre-calc homework - well, most of it.

GNRLHUXXX - if she gets cinnabons in exchange

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - nooooooo :((((

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - doesnt she already get those 4 free from TK when hes working?

GNRLHUXXX - *shrug*

GNRLHUXXX - im just the messenger. dont be mad at me

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - ugh fiiiiiiiineeeeee

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - is she leaving nao? bc i just want to get out of this stupid house

GNRLHUXXX - shes on her way 2 my place first. shuld be only a couple mins

oOoKYLO_RENoOo - OK sick >:D

GNRLHUXXX - :DDDD

_GNRLHUXXX is now offline (the bass. the rock. the mic. the treble.)_

_oOoKYLO_RENoOo is now offline (GNRLHUXXX??? more like GNRLSUXXX)_

It only took another ten minutes for the sound of Phasma’s horn to blare from the street. He grabbed his messenger bag and unplugged his headphones from the computer speakers, looping them on his neck. “Mooooom I’m leaving,” he bellowed, taking the stairs two at a time.

Unintelligible grumbling came from her office before he heard the sound of the door slamming. She was still on the phone, apparently. “I feel so loved,” Ben growled, letting the front door slam closed behind him.

Phasma leaned out of her front window, oblivious to the early-March chill in the air. “Hey loser,” she called out cheerfully. “Took you long enough.”

He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her, tugging his messenger bag to sit better on his shoulder. The strap was constantly messed up despite the binder clips that he’d put on it to keep it from getting too long. “Nice to see you, too,” he growled.

Hux smirked at him from the front seat. Ben would have to sit in the back next to whatever junk Phasma was carting around today. Totally fucking rude. It was _his idea_ to go to the mall and now he was getting the shit car seat? How completely unbel-

“Are you going to get in or should we just let you walk?” Hux sneered, his accent further grinding Ben’s nerves. Ben tugged the passenger door open and forced his way inside, kicking a box of what looked like magazines onto the opposite side.

He finally managed to get all of his gangly limbs inside Phasma’s tiny car and shut the door. She barely waited for both of his feet to be inside before she pulled away from the curb. She punched the radio’s on button to not-so-gently coax it to play something. The breeze from the open window made her cropped blonde hair flutter, which never failed to captivate Hux. The ginger idiot kept looking over at her every few seconds, chewing intently on his lip.

Ben rolled his eyes. How he managed to keep himself together when he was alone with Phasma was a mystery. “Did either of you hear that Slipknot might play one of the summer festivals?” Ben interjected between CD tracks.

Phasma, ever all-knowing, nodded. Hux hadn’t heard though and he turned eagerly in his seat. “You’re kidding. That’s awesome! We’re so totally going, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Nah, I just told you so that we could make sure we _didn’t_ go,” Ben replied sarcastically. “Dipshit.” The car rolled to a stop as Phasma waited patiently for the green light.

“Well last week you were talking about how Murderdolls was _so much better_ , so I _didn’t know_ ,” Hux hissed back. This was pretty typical for the pair. They were inseparable but both loved pushing the other’s buttons.

Phasma slammed her foot on the accelerator, jerking the car forward. “What did I tell you twerps about arguing in my car?” She asked, her voice low and threatening.

Both boys’ faces drain of color. They both knew perfectly well what Phasma could turn into when she got pissed. “Don’t do it,” the chorused in reply.

She grinned roguishly, her mood changing with a swiftness that was startling. “You’re goddamn right. Now, we’re going to Cinnabon first, right?” Her car pulled into the mall parking lot, cutting off a mini van to take a spot right by the main entrance.

Ben nodded quickly as Hux squeaked out, “Yeah, absolutely.”

“Then we can go to Hot Topic so Ben can get more Manic Panic. Your roots are starting to show again, Mr. ‘This is Totally my Natural Color’,” Phasma teased. His hand immediately flew up to his curly black hair. That was a low freaking blow. And how long was she going to wait before telling him that?

The radio cut out when she turned off the car, and the trio piled out onto the pavement. Ben shook his hair to better fall over his eyes and followed Phasma into the mall, Hux trailing on his heels. Once Phas got her sugar fix then they could do _actual_ cool things.

Like get more hair dye.


	2. And as we ran from the cops we laughed so hard it would sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew finally makes it to the holy land, Hot Topic, and otherwise terrorize the mall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to 2005. I’ll be your tour guide through this beautiful mess. As you can see below, we have some great memories of pretending to hate school but being resigned to the fact that it’s something you have to deal with. Also, running into that GODDAMN CHEERFUL PERSON that everyone loves and you just. Don’t. Want. To Deal. With Them.

Three cinnamon buns, two dollars, and one satisfied Phasma later, the trio was finally walking the main floor of the mall. Ben kept his typical scowl plastered to his face, not wanting to look like he was having _too_ much fun. After all, they weren’t typical teenagers. They were _badasses_. When they went to the mall, it was completely different than when stereotypical teens did.

Phasma munched on her last cinnamon bun, licking the excess frosting off before starting on the actual bun. Hux’s attention kept flickering between her and where he was walking, which just made Ben’s smirk widen. If he played his cards right, he could get the ginger to walk right into a pole.

“So what classes are you two thinking about taking next year?” Phasma asked between bites. “Thinking about any AP courses?”

Hux shook his head passionately, though the hand rubbing on the back of his neck didn’t quite match the affect he was projecting. “Nah, no way,” he grumbled. “I don’t want to waste all my free time doing homework.”

Ben scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t care _what_ my stupid mom says, there’s no way I’m going to suffer through AP English,” he added.

“You two dorks do know that they let you skip gen eds in college, right?” Phasma asked. She crumpled up the Cinnabon wrapper and chucked it at the closest trash can. “Point, Phas!” she cheered when it bounced on the edge directly in. “The score is ten thousand, Phasma, and none for Ben or Hux.”

The two boys looked at each other and exchanged eye rolls. It didn’t phase her at all _and_ Hux skirted around the pole he had been about to walk into. _Disappointing_. Ben clicked his tongue before going back to the class discussion. “Who says we’re even going to go to college, Phas? It’s ridiculous that we’re supposed to pick a major and all that bullshit to decide what we’re going to do with the rest of our lives, but _god forbid_ we get a tattoo,” he remarked sarcastically.

Hux nodded sagely and chimed in, “It’s a double standard, it is.”

“Double standard or not, you probably should still think about it,” Phasma replied, though her tone was bored rather than intent on telling the pair what to do. It was probably a good thing. She might be more mature than either of them, but dammit they didn’t need to be reminded every day.

“Well, regardless we don’t get to pick until closer to the end of the quarter, so I’m not worried,” Hux said with a shrug. “And you’ll let us use your old notebooks, right Phas?”

She hummed to herself, stopping to look in the accessory store window. “Mmm, maybe if you ever give me the twenty bucks for letting you use my exams _this_ year,” Phasma retorted. The display apparently didn’t capture her interests, and they started back on their path to Hot Topic.

Ben stuffed his hands in his pockets, not meeting Phasma’s eyes. She was right, of course. They had both said they were going to repay her for letting them study from her midterms and neither had scraped up the money since January. Ben had thought about snatching the money from his mom’s wallet, but the threat of getting grounded until summer kept him from actually doing it. She might not be around as much as Han, but that didn’t stop his mother from somehow making sure her punishments got enforced.

“You sure it was twenty?” Hux asked, deceptively cool. “I’m pretty sure it was ten altogether.” They stepped across the black tile threshold into their sanctuary from the public. Ben actually closed his eyes and savored the sudden change from bubbly pop music to the metal that filled the air in the store. _Hot Topic_.

Phasma actually considered Hux’s suggestion, tilting her head in recollection. “Maybe you’re right,” she admitted, “but I _know_ you both owed me. So it might have been ten each.” She wandered to the women’s clothes, allowing for Ben to throw double thumbs-up at his best friend. That was ten dollars more he didn’t have to pay back to her.

Hux mouthed the words ‘can I borrow ten bucks?’ to him. Ben changed his gesture to something a bit more explicative before sidling over to where the hair dye was. Hux had just gotten out of paying twenty bucks back. One would think that the idiot would find a way to get ten from his old man, Ben thought snarkily.

Twirling the display until he found the right shade of black - the _darkest_ shade of black that Manic Panic made - Ben scowled at the pricetag. Almost thirteen bucks. That plus tax would push him past the remaining cash in his pocket. “Phasma,” he growled under his breath.

The platinum blonde appeared behind him, clutching something dark and lacey that was sure to give any adult a heart attack. “You summoned me, dork lord?” she mock whispered, an eyebrow cocked.

“Christ!” Ben gasped, jumping from her sudden appearance. “Why do you _always_ have to do that?” His tone was incredulous, though he should have anticipated her answer.

“You make it far, far too easy my dear Benjamin,” she chuckled. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the display and the bottle of dye in his hands.

Her hand reached over his shoulder to spin the display again, this time stopping on the temporary colors. “Oh, this is a nice blue,” Phasma cooed, shoving Ben to the side to look at it. “And it’s on sale, too. Buy one get one half off.”

Ben was already huffing, thinking just how _lucky it was for her and her apparently infinite wallet_. He was interrupted from his scoffing by Phasma tugging his bottle of dye from his hands and walking up to the checkout counter. She called over her shoulders, “Are you going to give me the seven bucks you owe me, or should I just let you pay full price instead?”

His feet slipped slightly on the floor as he scrambled to go up to the counter. Gratitude was right on the tip of his tongue before she cut him off with a wave of her hand. The clerk looked at them with a confused stare, but otherwise continued to ring up Phasma’s purchases. Hux wandered back over to them at this point, scowling with his hands shoved into his jean pockets.

The scowl twitched slightly as he noticed the black and blue corset the clerk was bagging. “Please tell me that’s for the concert. Or a party. Or just to wear on a casual Friday afternoon,” he said quickly.

Phasma smirked, turning to lean on the checkout counter. “Hux, you’re going to be the same color as your hair if you keep that up. Just chill,” she teased. The ginger flushed a deeper shade of red, looking pointedly at the floor.

“But you are actually going to wear that, right?” Ben added. He had to stick up for his idiot friend _sometimes_. “Because you said you were going to wear those Tripp pants you bought last month and we’ve yet to see that.”

She sighed heavily and admitted, “It’s for my outfit for the concert at the end of the quarter. But if you two dweebs keep pestering me I’m just going to return it.” The thought was almost too much to bear. Phasma was so conservative compared to them with how she dressed, especially at school. The only time they could get her to dress in something more hardcore than a torn band t-shirt or skinny jeans was when their band - the First Order - played.

Hux and Ben fervently promised not to bring the corset up again, dropping the topic to instead about potential set lists for said concert. They walked out of the store bickering about the merits of doing covers of a single artist versus a variety of bands. Their next destination was a boutique that sold some of the more outlandish makeup and jewelry that were Phasma’s only indulgences outfit-wise.

Normally neither Hux nor Ben would be caught _dead_ in a “boutique,” but after the first time they had been dragged inside they had begrudgingly admitted it was pretty sick. The eyeliner section alone convinced Ben that the place wasn’t so bad - though the music left something to be desired. Hux preferred to spend his budgeted allowance in the jewelry section, carefully selecting a new leather cuff or clip-on stud earring.

Today, however he dogged Ben’s steps, looking on morosely as his friend picked over the dark nail polishes. “Not even going to browse?” Ben asked. He pretty much guessed the answer he was going to get at this and every other store they went to today.

The ginger shrugged and glared at his feet. “Not feeling it today. Everything’s too expensive,” he muttered. The pink tinge on his ears told a slightly different story.

Ben thought of his own fairly empty wallet and grunted in agreement. His eyes flicked over to the display where Phasma was currently browsing. Her back was to them as she scoured some new fragrance display.

Nudging Hux with his foot, Ben twitched his head back at the nail polish in his hand. Quickly, he slipped it into his sleeve and smirked at Hux.

He looked dumbfounded, but that quickly passed. “What are you _doing_?” he hissed between clenched teeth. Hux’s neck cracked from how fast he turned to look around them.

“Relax,” Ben hissed back. “Just be cool. It’s fine.”

The ginger only got more irritated, bouncing on his heels nervously. “What if we get caught?” Hux insisted, shuffling away from the offending display. Ben followed smoothly, sliding his hand into his messenger bag to drop the tiny bottle inside.

“Come on, live a little,” Ben insisted, smiling roguishly.

Chewing his lip, Hux seemed like he was going to crack. However he surprised Ben by nodding tightly and resuming his usual “too cool for this shit” demeanor. He lead the way to the next display, sighing a little too loudly but otherwise maintaining his cool.

Ben wound his way over to the other side of the bracelet display, eyeing a black cuff studded with inch-long spikes. The thing was _wicked_ and Hux had stared longingly at the thing practically every time they went in the store. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Hux whispered after smoothly checking for any eagle eyed employees.

“Try it on,” Ben replied, giving him a look. Hux picked up the bracelet and another similar cuff, turning them over in his hands. His fingers twitched but he still managed to tuck the spiked one into his jacket pocket without dropping it.

“Too tight,” Hux said simply, dropping the other bracelet back onto the table. Ben choked back a snicker and they both stepped away from the table.

They repeated the same pattern at a few of the other displays, snatching cheap eyeliner and clip on piercings in between genuine casual browsing. When Ben made a grab for a black lipstick their luck ran out. They had made it to the doorway, and he had made the mistake of twirling the tube between his fingers instead of tucking it away.

“You have to pay for that before leaving,” the clerk called out, scowling. Ben dropped the offending merchandise like it had burned him.

Hux took charge, giving an insincere apology about Ben “forgetting” he had been holding it. Then they skittered out of the store with wide grins splayed across their faces. “Okay, that was a little bit badass,” Hux admitted, leaning on a plant display as they waited for Phasma to finish up her shopping.

Ben nodded smartly. “Of course it was,” he crooned. “It was my idea.”

“O-o-okay then,” Hux sneered. They exchanged glowering looks before simultaneously turning away. A moment later, Hux added in an undertone, “We can’t tell Phasma.”

“She’ll kill us,” Ben agreed.

“Why is your girlfriend going to kill you?” a cheerful voice rose from Ben's side. He rolled his eyes and stared pointedly at the storefront instead of addressing the newcomer.

Poe Dameron swaggered - truly it was the only description of how the guy moved - over to the duo. Hux frowned, eyes darting carefully between Ben and Poe. “She’s not my girlfriend. Or Hux's,” Ben insisted. “Don’t you have something better to do than torment us?”

He only grinned more at this, smiling so damn genuinely that Ben almost felt bad for how he was acting. Almost. “Just checking in on my two favorite outcasts,” Poe remarked. “I do have to say I'm surprised to see you here in the mall with us mere mortals.”

“Funny. I was going ask the same thing about you,” Ben retorted. “What have we done to earn the right, no the _privilege_ of seeing Mr. Amazing Dameron in the flesh?” Poe was the captain of practically every varsity sport at school, utterly beloved by students and teachers alike, and the complete antithesis of everything Ben stood for.

“Don’t you have a football to be kicking around?” Hux added, sneering.

Unsurprisingly, this didn’t phase him. If anything, it amused Poe even more. “I’d love to, but we just wrapped up the season. It’s basketball now. Didn’t you guys go to the rally last week?” he asked curiously. Of course they hadn’t gone to the rally. It was the perfect time to hang out in the art room and change all the fruit bowl arrangements.

Thankfully Phasma arrived at this precise moment, saving Poe from the snarky comment that Ben was coming up with. Whatever it was going to be, it was going to be amazing. Completely.

She raised an eyebrow at their new companion. “I didn't know you guys were friends,” she said. There was a hint of confusion in her voice, something not common for Phasma.

Ben fervently shook his head. Naturally, Poe took this time to remind everyone that his and Ben’s parents were good friends. “We spent quite a lot of afternoons together, didn't we?” he said, smiling fondly at the memories.

“And then you turned into a jock,” Ben retorted, “and are a constant pest.”

Poe laughed, throwing his head back with the motion. Was he physically capable of doing anything without it grating on Ben’s nerves? “You crack me up, man,” Poe chuckled, shaking his head back and forth.

The gangly youth ground his teeth and turned to look at Hux for some support. He cleared his throat and pushed off from the planter, gesturing down the way that Poe had come from. “We’re gonna… go,” Hux said dismissively. Ben nodded shortly in agreement. He ignored the cheerful farewell offered by Poe, choosing to fiddle with the strap on his messenger bag instead.

Phasma was still watching intently, but she followed Hux and Ben on their path through the mall. She did wave to Poe though, polite as ever. As soon as he was out of earshot, she chirped, “So when were you going to tell us you’re friends with Backpack Cat kid?”

Ben groaned, mortified. “Literally. Never,” he hissed. “And we are _not_ friends.”

Stifling a laugh, Hux quickly added, “Do you have petting privileges?” He dodged the fist that Ben sent flying towards him, breaking out into actual giggles.

“I don’t even _want_ to pet Bebe,” Ben practically shouted.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“You know the cat’s name?” Hux crooned, slapping away Ben’s next punch.

“You’re on first name basis with Backpack Cat but you’re not friends with Dameron?” Phasma said at the same time.

Throwing his hands in the air, Ben stormed ahead of his friends. “Can we just _drop it_?” he insisted, glowering at the group of pre-teens ogling them from across the center aisle. The two assholes behind him still snickered, but they finally - _finally_ \- let it go.

“So we’re going to just hang out by the South exit until the mall closes?” Hux asked after a minute of silence.

“Lurking and making the adults feel uncomfortable,” Ben replied with a nod.

“Why do we do this, again?”

“Because we’re different than the squares, Hux. We’re _better_ than them.”

“Because we’re badass?” Hux offered, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“ _Duh_. Well, at least Phas and I are. Maybe not you."

Phasma sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Long live the car crash hearts cry on the couch all the poets come to lie on fix me in forty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets in a tight spot defending one of his friends. He and Hux talk about it over some primo classic Playstation-ing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since I've returned to 2005, so I'm glad to be back here in Ben, Hux, and Phas's backyard. Major props to Meag for helping to beta this!

Ben kicked at the feet of his chair, trying to summon up a scowl to plaster across his face. When the movement pulled at the tender and puffy skin surrounding his eyes and nose, he stopped trying. It hurt to keep trying and it hurt to stop all the same.

He turned his head to stare out the tiny window that allowed him to see from the office into the main hall. Classmates and teachers alike filtered by, totally oblivious to the sulky teenager sitting in the empty room.

For once, Ben relished his invisibility. Being seen in the guidance counselor's office for the fifth time since the quarter started would just get the rumor mill started. It was the final stretch for Junior year. He should have his shit together.

Ms. Kanata made her way inside. She was _ancient_ in Ben's eyes, her make-up caked on in a way that just made her wrinkles stand out more. They were very well acquainted, he and Ms. Kanata. She'd been assigned to him ever since Freshman year after Ben's previous councilor decided he didn't want to deal with high school students any more.

There certainly wasn't an issue between Ben and Poe that ended in a three week at-home suspension or multiple interventions by the police.

It would have been a lot better if Ben had just been kicked out of the school, he often thought. Then he could have been working on a technical degree at the vocational school and not dealt with the imbeciles who pushed his buttons on a daily basis. But the son of an important government aide wasn't so easily removed from the public school system. Private schools would turn down donations. Public ones were happy to accept new bleachers and smart boards to keep one fight-happy kid.

Han had intervened at the time, pulling all privileges and sending Ben to live with his uncle on his backwoods farm for the rest of the school year. The threat to do so for the entirety of high school was enough to curtail any further physical altercations - at least _public_ ones. Ms. Kanata took over the situation in her usual slow, forceful way, having the quarrelling boys sit and discuss their frustrations under her watchful, spectacled eyes. Things calmed down but Ben never bothered with Poe after the fact.

Thankfully Sophomore year was when Hux had moved into town, forcing his company upon Ben every day at lunch until he realized they were actually really great friends. Hux brought with him his starry eyed crush, something that Ben tried to use to embarrass him with by chatting up Phasma in their mixed gym class. Not one to be used for such nefarious purposes, Phasma retaliated by following them for _days_ until it was no longer punishment and instead yet another unlikely friendship.

Alright, so leaving the public high school would have robbed him of his only _good_ friends.

Ms. Katana cleared her throat multiple times as she sorted through her filing cabinets to track down Ben's file. Once it was located, she took another quarter century to get to the most current pages, reviewing a fresh pink page with her coke-glass spectacles held in her thick fingers. "You were fighting again, Benjamin?" she croaked.

His full name set his hackles up even higher. "If you say so," he spat in reply, looking pointedly away.

It was going to be one of _those_ meetings. Ms. Katana made a "hmph" noise. She went through the motions of finding a fresh piece of lined paper, opening the metal prongs of the file folder, sliding it into position, folding the prongs again, and smoothing the paper into perfect flatness. "Why don't you tell me what happened then?"

\---

"Hey, Solo's flying solo today." _Har har_. _What a uniquely clever joke._ Ben tapped at his Zune, scrolling back up to find AFI in his library. Class was about to start but the teacher was busy talking to one of the honors-student-slash-brown-noser-slash-goodie-two-shoes kids up front.

"Oh he's missing his orange shadow."

"Or his Amazon girlfriend."

Snickering cut through the gap between songs as ben's music player loaded the next file. Ben looked up to see perfect teeth bared in wicked smiles. "Nah the freak's totally screwing his gay best friend. Anyone with a name like _Armitage_ is a fucking queer."

Ben's desk toppled forward, slamming to the ground in a spill of notebook pages. Lord knows where his Zune went as now his ears only registered a high pitched ringing. The collection of preps and posers who had been snickering and sneering were a mere two desks ahead of him.

He reached the ringleader in three strides.

"His name is Hux." The words spilled out of his mouth even as his jaw felt numb. He only knew he spoke because he felt his mouth move; the ringing was piercing, dulling any other sound to a bare whisper. It was like being underwater while air raid sirens wailed above.

The ringleader didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation. It'd been so long since Ben Solo went off on a fellow student, surely he wasn't about to risk the rest of his quarter over someone mocking Hux's first name? "I'll call your twink boyfriend whatever I want to, _freak_ ," he hissed.

Underwater, everything moved in slow motion.

Ben's fingers curled around the boy's shirt collar, dragging him forcibly out of the chair. He could see the boy's pulse thrumming in his throat, feel the beginning of his struggles to escape his grip. Ben allowed him his escape, throwing him down to the ground. It was easier to slam his knockoff Doc Martens into the guy's ribcage that way.

It took two of the guy's cronies to attempt to grab Ben's arms. They were like flies, easy to swipe away. Ben knocked aside one's head and sent a sucker punch to the other's stomach. His full force of attention was on the boy on the ground.

Somehow Ben was crouching over him now, knuckles splitting as he unraveled the bully's skin with unending strikes. Ben's mouth moved, a mantra vehemently prayed. "Don't call him that; no one calls him that."

His classmates were a group of cowards, unwilling to defend their fellow student. It only confirmed Ben's resolve that he was right - this jackass had no right to say what he was saying. Not about Hux. Not about him.

The asshole had _no_ right.

The body under him went limp, though Ben didn't quite realize until the kid stopped flinching. All the adrenaline that had fueled his righteous fury and unending fervor was gone just as soon as it arrived, leaving Ben a worn out husk. Retching, he rolled away from the bully.

Dry heaves racked his frame and he couldn't keep his arms from shaking. Collapsing in a heap on the ground was far simpler. When the school security guards _finally_ showed up to the classroom, Ben laid there wordlessly, staring at the terrified expressions of his classmates blankly.

It was when they picked Ben up that he started laughing.

\---

"So you maintain that Frankie was the bully this afternoon?" Ms. Kanata asked him quietly, gently. She was using the kid gloves, handling Ben as though he was a delicate child who needed to be coaxed into corrective action.

Scoffing, Ben threw on his best glower and continued to stare at the ceiling tiles. "He and his fellow reptiles wouldn't stop talking about me, right in front of them," he snarled. "Bet they thought they'd get a rise out of me and be the heroes of the preps."

Ms. Kanata studied him behind her glasses, bug eyed blinking so damn slowly. "They were talking about you? That's hardly justifiable for knocking out another child," she chided.

Lurching forward, Ben slammed his fist on his knee. "They were deliberately trying to provoke me," he hissed. "Mocking my friends. Throwing bullshit slurs around."

A bushy, grey eyebrow rose above tortoiseshell frames. "Slurs?"

"Just dumb shit. Thought they were so fucking above everything," he said. Ben settled back against his chair and locked his jaw. Maz was fishing. He was done playing along. If the school was going to suspend him, so be it.

"You do know that you can tell me specifics, Benjamin," Ms. Kanata pushed. Ben refused to budge. "Anything you say will remain confidential."

The floor tiles were bland, grey, and not distracting enough. Every second he remained here was another moment of agony. Ben shrugged. "Don't have anything else to say about it."

He heard his councilor sigh and the soft clink of her glasses being neatly folded. "Alright, Benjamin. I'm going to have you brought home. Do you have anyone home to let you in?" she asked. It would take her a good two minutes to undo the process from earlier and put his file away.

His face wasn't puffy anymore and when he scoffed, the motion didn't pull at swollen eyes. "I've got a key; I'm not a kindergartener."

"Of course, Benjamin. My mistake, my mistake."

\---

He was spared the indignity of sitting in the back seat, unfolding his legs to their full reach as he left the passenger seat of the rent-a-cop car. The officer wasn't paid enough to make sure that Ben actually went inside, speeding away as soon as the car door was closed.

Earphones tucked around his lobes, Ben hit play on his music player once again. The screen had a new spiderweb thin crack running along the bottom. He'd found the device face down about ten feet away from his desk, another victim of the fight. It wasn't that bad, all things considered. His parents wouldn't replace it, not when Ben had earned himself a full two week long suspension.

Armed with a defense against the rest of the world, Ben started on the familiar trek to Hux's house. When the army brat first started getting friendly with him, Ben had been pleasantly surprised to learn Hux lived just four streets over. If necessary, there were only six yards between them. Ben didn't feel like getting in any more trouble today by hopping his shitty neighbor's fences, so he took the long way around.

Brendol wasn't home, trusting his son to sniffle and cough at home on his own. It was a welcomed break from meddling adults. Hux opened the door, unsurprised to see Ben standing there. "You skipped out of trig?" he asked. The cold made his voice rough and Hux's already thready vowels were practically nonexistent.

"Something like that," Ben replied. His Zune vanished into a back pocket as Hux led them downstairs to his den. His Playstation controller was in the middle of the floor, thrown down in a fit of rage if the GAME OVER screen was any indicator.

Hux plopped into a beanbag chair and earned himself a coughing fit. Ben took up the controller, thumbing through the loading menu to get to the cheat code screen. "Stop man," Hux wheezed. "I was going to beat it fairly before you shat all over the high scores with cheats."

"You're playing a game that's been out for half a decade on a console that's even older," Ben countered. "Suck it up." Even if he did set impossibly high scores, Hux was going to just wipe the memory card anyway; This was the third or fourth time he'd tried to clear the game without cheating. Ben wasn't going to feel too bad.

Alright, he'd just unlock all the fighters instead of grabbing unlimited health. "Did you fix your other controller yet?"

Hux bobbed his head and went to fish it out from the tangle of wires under the television. The start button had been a casualty of an unfortunate peanut butter sandwich incident, rendering it utterly useless. Ben thought he could still smell peanuts when Hux dropped back into the beanbag next to him.

Cheat code entered, Ben thumbed back to the main screen to start their versus match. Creaming Hux was way easier when he had his main fighter unlocked. Midway through their second bout, the redhead threw out a casual question. "What happened to your hands?"

Ben looked down and cringed. His knuckles were red, bruising from abuse. Only one had split fully but Ben had worried at it during his meeting with Ms. Kanata and in the rent-a-cop's car, picking at the peeling skin. While distracted, Ben lost a good third of his health bar to Hux's quick acting. Bastard.

"A dick got in my face. He got what was coming to him," Ben growled low. He fumbled the combination he was trying, ending up with a jumble of punches and twitchy movements rather than the intended specialty move.

Hux snorted, blocking each of Ben's poorly attempted strikes. It was over in a few more moments; Ben had lost far too much health to be a true contender for the round. They were tied one to one now. "Tell me you didn't get suspended."

"It was worth it." The great thing about classic nineties games was the lack of load times. Round three started up quickly, distracting Hux from his interrogation. Ben took the crown for the third round, cinching the overall win. He started another match and stared pointedly at the screen as Hux refused to select a fighter.

"Hux?" Ben pressed his friend, looking over at him for the first time since sitting down.

The redhead was looking at the screen, eyes unseeing as the wheels turned in his head. Ben knew that look all too well. "How long?"

Still on this stupid ass conversation. "Two weeks."

"Break anything?"

"No." Well, he wasn't certain that his desk was one hundred percent alright. And his Zune was slightly damaged.

Hux wasn't done. "Did they say something about your dad?" he asked gingerly.

This wouldn't do. Ben had already suffered through the third degree with Ms. Kanata. Scoffing, Ben backed out of the versus match to load up the campaign. If Hux wasn't going to fight him that was his loss. "Like I would give a shit about Han," Ben growled under his breath.

"Your mom?" The first fight was way too easy. Three special moves - the _same_ special moves, no variation - brought the computer down within moments.

Round two went just as smoothly. The cherry on the top was the blood red FATALITY splashed across the screen. "Can you just let it go? Honestly, you're as bad as my fucking parents. Or Phas," Ben hissed.

Hux coughed for a bit, surging up - and blocking the screen while he did so - to make his way upstairs. He clenched a water glass in his hand when he came back down, ice cubes clinking away. Ben took it as a good sign when Hux swapped the glass for his controller. The campaign would take too damn long to get to the good part. When he switched back to the versus mode, Hux stalled out _again_ at character selection.

"Phas is going to kill you when she finds out you got suspended 'cause of us," he warned. Finally Hux picked his fighter, allowing the match to load up.

Ben ground his teeth. "It didn't have anything to do with her, so she can fuck off. It's none of her business - or yours for that matter - why I kicked Frank's ass. So can we just _drop it_?"

They launched their characters at one another, a mess of kicks and punches without any of their normal sense of strategy. "So it was about me," Hux mused, just loud enough.

Snarling, Ben threw his controller into the air. "I didn't fucking say who it was about," he shouted.

Hux, who was painfully composed, shook his head. "Don't break that one now," he said with a scowl. "And don't you think you're a little too transparent to think you can hide what's going on? You get in a fight at school, don't bitch about the bastard being a complete shithead to you, come over and sit there like you're regretting every single fucking decision in your life, and expect me to believe that it didn't have anything to do with me? If it was about anyone else you would have told me and that's the truth."

He didn't have to be so arrogant about it.

"I don't care about being right."

Mmmhm.

"You're picking at your knuckles. That's going to hurt." Hux's voice had softened, just barely but it was there. The smugness and the goddamn _certainty_ in his correctness faded to genuine concern.

Ben shoved off of the chair, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I gotta go. My mother's going to be home and she'll have gotten the call from school. I'll see you when I see you," he growled under his breath. His foot tripped up on the first step, and Ben whirled out of Hux's house like he'd been thrown out.

He took the short way home, hopping fences and ducking under windowsills when he heard the confused voices of his neighbors. His blood still ran hot and the front door slammed against the doorstop when he shoved it open.

"Benjamin Solo, if you think breaking something will make you feel better, boy do I have news for you," his mother called out. "Better start now because I have half a mind to have your father ship you off to _Siberia_ and leave you there."

Perfect.

\---

He closed Pidgen after the fortieth consecutive "hey" from GNRL_HUXXX. Three hours of getting chewed out by his mother and then a phone call with an equally irate Han had put Ben's mood thoroughly in the "bad" category. He could wait to deal with the guilt trip from Hux.

When he finished his schoolwork - yes, before midnight because his mother wouldn't _shut up_ about him needing to get everything done or she'd take away his ethernet connection - Ben turned to his remaining solace: music.

Except his Zune was MIA. Tearing apart his backpack just left assignments and notebooks scattered on the ground along with the pens he'd "lost" on the first day of school. His computer had music, sure, but the cord on his headphones didn't reach from the desk to his bed. He needed his MP3 player.

_Needed it_.

Letting out a hoarse scream, Ben threw a pillow. It thumped against his bedroom door, rattling the NERF basketball hoop that hung there unused for years.

"Benjamin!" His name was his only warning. There would be no leniency for Ben for days. He would be a perfect son. He had two weeks at home to survive.

"Sorry," he yelled, peeling open the door so that he didn't have to strain his throat. It was aching from the day's activities. It would be perfect for a band night, honestly, but less so for getting in another screaming match with his parents.

When he closed the door, Ben nearly shot up a foot in the air. Hux was perched outside his window, his pale hand just about to rap on the glass. Ben couldn't just ignore him any more. Scowling, he ran a hand through his hair and hopped up onto his bed.

The window open, Hux gripped the inside sill with all his might. "Shit, man, this is harder than I remember," he wheezed.

Ben grabbed him by the shirt collar, hauling him roughly inside. "Shhh," he hissed at the redhead. "You're going to get me in even worse shit."

"Can it really get any worse?" Hux retorted, rubbing his stomach. "I come with a peace offering." From his sweatshirt pocket came a familiar brown rectangle and black-and-maroon earphones. Additionally, Hux materialized two small plastic bottles with RUM handwritten on them.

Ben raised an eyebrow, impressed. Hux never raided Brendol's liquor cabinet. Like never with a capital N. "Thanks, man," Ben said earnestly. The Zune came first, thumbed to life with rapid motions. With the earphone cord winding around his neck, Ben took the offered drink.

They had to talk low, which may have contributed to Ben's inability to get mad at Hux when he brought up the very topic that Ben wanted to forget entirely about. "What did Frank say exactly?" Hux struggled to manage volume and actual words at the same time with how far along his cold was.

Taking a swig of the clear liquor ate up a few moments to help dull Ben's reflexive snarky retort. It was just too much of a bother to get agitated over the same damn thing again. "He was riffing on your name," Ben growled.

Hux held back laughter, shaking his head instead. If he started laughing there would be a good chance he'd start coughing. "That is a dick move. Lemme guess, there was the whole 'Armie's just named after his dad's job' deal," he wheezed.

Ben cringed. That had been the normal course of events. And usually Hux was able to give it just as good back to the bully until the joke had finally died out. Shaking his head, Ben retreated to lean against the headboard of his bed. "He called you my twink boyfriend." The words stuck in his throat, refusing to move as commanded.

The rum helped a little to get the rest out. "Said anyone with a name like yours had to be a queer."

Silence reigned, broken only by the tinny sound of Ben's music pounding through his dangling earphones. Ben stared at the band posters on his ceiling, at the stupid NERF hoop, anywhere than at his closest friend.

"Pft, that's a horrible judge of sexuality. Names are picked by parents," Hux scoffed. The bed bowed and flexed as he shifted to mirror Ben, swinging his feet up by Ben's hip.

"You didn't have to do that," Hux added, so low it barely registered to Ben.

He lifted his eyes to finally look at the redhead. Hux was looking out the window. The rum and the fever flushed his cheeks, giving him the illusion of vigor while his rapidly moving chest spoke the truth; he was sick as a _dog_. Really, he should have been home in bed, warm and sleeping, instead of hauling himself up to Ben's bedroom window to _maybe_ be let in. Ben could have turned him away or he could have been caught. It was a horrible plan, truly. Not at all a typical Hux plan.

Ben finally swallowed his pride and frustration, tempered by Hux's loyalty. "What're friends for? Someone has to stick up for you."

God, how fucking overdramatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and thoughts are super loved and appreciated XOXO


	4. Are you aware of what you make me feel? / Right now I feel invisible to you, like I'm not real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The school has a Sadie Hawkins Dance. It's just as unbearable as Ben thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm counting down the hours before I get to see TFA, I finally get to poke at one of my old fics for fun! It's amazing what you can accomplish when you're unable to check your usual social media for fear of spoilers XD

Stalking the halls, Ben sought to either avoid the too-quick glances or give back the menacing snarl that he never practiced in the mirror while waiting for the shower to warm up. Neither method really worked well. He just had a crick in his neck from leaning down, as though that would help keep him out of eyeline. The hem on his jeans no longer brushed against the tops of his converse thanks to his most recent growth spurt.

To make things worse on top of the usual high school bullshit and his renewed reputation for starting shit, people refused to shut the ever living fuck up about the upcoming spring dance. It wasn’t prom - May was still a good six weeks away - but his idiot sheep classmates wouldn’t stop bleating in excitement.

It was a Sadie Hawkins dance, you see. That made it _so_ much better. Ben rubbed his thumb on the strap of his backpack while he waited for the outflow of lower classmen from the chemistry lab. He didn’t begrudge giving the girls a shot to direct the social order for once. No, Ben resented the fact that he only had one girl- _space_ -friend who was essentially dibsed for the rest of eternity. There would be zero opportunity for him to slide into the dance with a smoking hot gothic vision in lace and great music tastes.

Phasma didn’t even wear lace, to be fair.

A finger tapped on Ben’s back, one that he ignored as he was finally able to escape the chaos of the hallway and enter the classroom. “Wait, Ben,” Hux hissed from the doorway. He didn’t have chemistry this period, but history was right next door.

The teacher shook her head but technically she couldn’t do anything until the bell rang again. Ben backpedaled to scrunch into the corner by the door. “What? We have lunch in like forty minutes,” he snapped.

Hux was bouncing on his toes, an interesting sight. “Can you do me a solid? Tickets went on sale today for the dance. TK said he saw Phasma get two. Two! She’s paying for her date,” he gushed.

That was news. Ben’s stomach twisted in angry knots. He already knew that he wasn’t going to be the one asked, but it still stung when Hux asked, “Can you ditch lunch? At least until I get Phas back to the locker room? I think if she’s alone with me, she’ll ask!”

A slick mask covered Ben’s mouth, twisting his lips to bear his teeth. “Sure thing.” His voice would crack if he said more than that.

Hux slapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He didn’t even say thanks before darting away. The bell had just rung after all.

“Get to your seat, Solo.”

* * *

Ben had to go on his own to get his friggen ticket. Hux had been right, of course. Phasma was all for flipping gender norms. If her date would have bought her ticket to a typical dance, she was more than happy to pay for them this time. And this time, Hux was her date.

“It’s only ten bucks”, Ben said dismissively when asking his mom for the money. She arched her eyebrow rather than looking up from her desk. It was well past six. Han wouldn’t be home for another half hour to start cooking dinner.

His mother finished composing her email or writing her report or whatever she’d been doing for the state that was oh so more important than her own son. “You don’t need a ticket for your date?” she pressed. It was the same question she asked every time, one that Ben never appreciated.

Ears thoroughly red, Ben tapped his hand on his leg. “ _No mom,_ ” he growled. Only the sight of her moving to open up her checkbook kept him from just throwing his hands up and scrounging up the cash from change left in his pants pockets.

“Did Armie get Miss Phasma’s hand this time?” Ben’s mother simpered. They were back to handling him with kid gloves, too afraid to set him off into his next spiral. It hurt her reputation to have a troubled kid. The payout to keep him in public school back in freshman year had cost Han the chance to buy back a portion of his shipping company. They’d keep him at a distance to save themselves from pushing him the wrong way. It was the only reason why she’d be handing him a check - made out to the school, she wasn’t dumb enough to hand him a blank one - instead of following through on post-grounding punishment.

It was some small mercy that Ben got to the student council table while none of his own classmates were manning it. The girl who sold him the ticket was an underclassman, and Ben got to walk away without feeling like anyone who mattered saw that he wasn’t going with a date. It was just delaying the inevitable, but Ben would take whatever small mercies he could to avoid further ridicule by the unbearable general public.

That was until Poe rounded the corner, screwing a cap back on his water bottle. His face darkened when he spotted Ben. He wasn’t fast enough to hide the expression behind the undoubtedly fake smile that emerged to replace it. “Hey Ben,” he said in a hurried voice. “I didn’t think you’d be going to the dance.”

It would be easy to blow him off and make some comment about how asinine it was to even want to go in the first place. But Maz’s last round of counselling advice - and the ticket in his hand - stilled his tongue. “Why wouldn’t I?” Lifting one shoulder, Ben stood to mirror Poe. They stepped around one another to lean on opposing walls of the hall.

“Well, I’m glad you’re coming to the event. We’re putting a ton of effort into this one. Stacy was really excited about the theme,” Poe rambled on for a bit.

Ben’s jaw locked into a horrendously fake smile that he hated. “Good for her. The girls-asking thing, that’s different.” Even trying he knew that the sentiment was hollow.

Silence rang out between the boys. Poe rubbed the back of his head. Ben’s foot itched up and down. “I wasn’t sure that you’d get to go with the whole… thing. I meant to ask the VP if you’d be able to but never got around to it,” Poe admitted. Ben twisted his head to look at the ceiling and swallowed hard. Of _course_ Poe tried to look out for Ben. He was just that nice of a guy. “I’m glad they’re not punishing you any further.”

“Yeah the suspension was a cakewalk,” Ben hissed. “Not that that was punishment enough.”

Poe cringed. He tried to apologize, stepping forward from the wall toward Ben. A gaggle of underclassmen girls swarmed by, forcing him right back. Good. Ben didn’t want his sympathy.

“Just drop it, Dameron,” Ben snarled when he tried to say something once more. “I punched a kid out. You don’t have to act like I was _wronged_ by the school.” He kicked off from the wall and surged towards his locker. He had a free period study hall to get to. Maybe he’d go to the silent one so people would stop trying to be his damn friend.

* * *

The night of the dance, Ben struggled to decide just how much he wanted to fuck with everyone’s expectations. Should he wear his most ripped pair of jeans to go for the ‘better than this’ affect? Should he actually bother to dress up to prove that he could when he bothered to? There were so many directions and levels of sticking it to the man he could chose.

In the end he went with the option that pissed his dad off the most. Han had tried to help him by ironing a dress shirt for him, which sealed the deal. “It’s not Prom,” Ben insisted.

“That’s not the point,” Han insisted. “You can at least try to dress up a bit.” Ben darted out the door to Phasma’s waiting car in a Mayday Parade hoodie over the same shirt and black jeans he’d worn to school that day.

Hux, naturally, was in perfect form. He had a clip on bowtie and matching vest. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing an actual jacket, but Hux was still leagues ahead of Ben’s outfit. He hadn’t coordinated with Phasma’s dress color, but the poor kid probably hadn’t gotten the courage to ask her what she was going to wear to match. Hux eyed Ben’s chosen outfit when he hopped into the car, eyebrows raising.

“It’s just a dance,” Ben growled for what felt like the eightieth time that week.

Everything was a nuisance from that point onward. More so than usual. Hux made a big deal about helping Phasma out of her own damn car even after Ben muttered that it should have been the other way around. They found a table in the center of the gym, not far enough away from the dance floor for Ben’s liking. The music was overdone, too loud, and cliche.

On top of everything, Phasma had been too excited for the dance to have snuck a flask in. Ben itched to check her purse regardless when she and Hux got up to dance, but he knew that it would only end in broken fingers if she ever found out. So he sat at the table and glowered at his two closest friends standing a half foot away from each other while they “slow danced.”

The time on his watch seemed to be going backwards every time that he checked. Ben wasn’t certain if he was happier when they were back at the table sitting in uncomfortable silence together than when he was left alone. The fighting incident had thrown away any chance of someone else sitting at the table with them. Ben wasn’t crazy for TK or any of Phasma’s other upperclassmen friends, but usually they were at least passable company.

No, instead Ben got to watch as Hux’s ears turned redder and redder from each chance he got to hold Phasma’s hand. Finally, Ben’s patience was up. He got up from the table and stalked to the lobby of the gym, if only to have something to do. It was cooler out there and Ben relaxed. It was alright even if he no longer had access to the snack table.

The lobby had a bank of windows with deep insets that a scrawny kid like himself could fit into. They went all the way up the curved staircase that led to the second floor of the school, and Ben counted himself lucky that no one was making out up there. He settled into one of the windowsills and stared out into the inky blackness.

What the hell had been the point of coming to the dance? He knew that he was being an ass, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was like there was a kernel stuck in his teeth, except the kernel was Hux and Phasma looking at one another with stupid eyes and he couldn’t use a toothpick to pry them apart.

There was no logical reason why he shouldn’t be happy that Hux’s long standing dream was at least in a vaguely less platonic way coming true. One of their earliest jokes when they were alone was to figure out who would crack first, him or her, and just confront the crush that was so painfully apparent. But now actually being confronted by the reality that Phasma might in the slightest way reciprocate Hux’s feelings felt like a suckerpunch.

Ben’s fingers curled into a tight fist. The slight bite of his nails didn’t help. Nor did butting his head against the glass in front of him. The dull ache he gained in his skull only made his mood sour further. Pain wouldn’t make his friends magically stop flirting, but hell if he had any better ideas.

Someone was stepping up the stairs. Ben closed his eyes rather than look at the pair that was searching for him. He had known eventually they would come looking for him.

“Ben? Why’d you up and vanish?” Hux asked. Ben waited the appropriate few seconds for Phasma to chime in with her always pointed commentary. Except this time there wasn’t any. Hux shuffled next to him, alone. There wasn’t enough space for him to fit in the alcove with how Ben was sitting, which was a welcome relief. He didn’t want to be any closer to the redhead than they already were.

Rather than actually address him, Ben directed his replies to Hux’s sullen reflection. It made it easier to spit out his frustrations. “You were busy. I wanted some air. Then I just stayed. Figured you would want the private time together,” he said.

“We had like a half hour alone,” Hux sputtered. “Then it just got… I dunno what to say. She-”

Ben threw himself out from the alcove, pushing past his so-called best friend. He didn’t have to listen to this. He didn’t have to put up with this bullshit. His adrenaline had spiked when Hux mentioned them being _alone together_ , driving Ben further away from the damned dance music. The door to the locker rooms didn’t lock on one side. Ben kicked it open and stormed away into the dark hallway. He barely registered the confused calls from Hux.

This couldn’t be another _incident_. He had to calm the raging fire in his veins, had to beat back the dark fury licking at his heels. The next door didn’t open even after Ben kicked it three times. A hand touched his shoulder blade, tangible since Ben had left his hoodie at the table in the too-hot gym.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled. It was nearly impossible to see anything in the hallway; the only light came from the emergency exit lights. Red bathed Ben’s entire body and lit Hux’s betrayed expression. He held the hand that Ben had slapped away.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hux cried. He wasn’t angry and that was just too damn rich. The only one who was angry was Ben. Of course he was. Still, the furrow of Hux’s brow and the way his lips parted only served to throw a sharper relief on how out of line Ben was acting.

Ben staggered backwards until he hit the tiled wall. He had to say _something, anything_ to Hux. “I can’t stand seeing you with her,” he admitted. The words tumbled out in a horrid rush. It wasn’t an apology or an explanation, just an excuse.

Hux let out a scoff, shaking his head back and forth as he continued to stare at Ben. “I didn’t realize I had such an effect on your happiness,” he said. His voice was rising in pitch, edging closer to genuine anger.

When Hux turned to storm off, Ben lurched forward. His hand wrapped around Hux’s wrist, stopping him. “You’re a fucking idiot to not know that,” Ben insisted. It wasn’t helping; he still couldn’t get the words he actually needed to say out there.

“So now I’m the moron,” Hux spat. “Great. Fantastic. You know, all you had to do was wait a few bloody seconds for me to finish talking instead of charging off like a brute and kicking down school property.”

“I listened to you two talk all goddamn night-” Ben snarled.

“She went home! She left!” Hux roared. The words echoed in the empty hallway and clawed their way into Ben’s mind. Phasma hadn’t stayed. She was gone and Hux was still here.

Ben opened his mouth, hoping to come up with something that didn’t make things any worse. Nothing came out. He could only look down at Hux, still stuck in his grip with his stupid eyes shining with pent up emotions. Hux didn’t have emotions like this. He sneered. He smirked. He plotted. Hux didn’t almost cry over a girl. “She doesn’t like me,” Hux whispered. “I haven’t been able to stop looking at her and she doesn’t even _like_ me.”

There were a thousand things that Ben could say. He could reason with Hux, tell him that of course Phasma liked him. She always had to go home at weird times for her dad. They’d been dealing with Ben’s sorry ass all night; of course she wouldn’t be having a good time. He could say almost anything to fix the chaos that he’d kicked up.

 “I like you,” Ben said hoarsely. Hux blinked at him, half of his face obscured by Ben’s shadow. Now Ben was grateful that the hallway was so dark. His free hand trembled just so and it would have been embarrassing for Hux to see it. Ben stepped closer, now painfully aware of how his hold on Hux’s wrist had loosened but hadn’t let go.

Hux swallowed once. He licked his lips. A tiny thread of saliva lingered when he opened his mouth to say simply, “Oh.” Ben felt hyper-aware of every second that passed, of every beat of his thundering heart.

He hadn’t meant to say that. It was a half-composed thought at best, one that he shoved out of sight whenever it reared its ugly head. Now, in the dark of the locker room hallway, he had admitted it and… and now what? Ben studied Hux’s eyes, desperate for something beside the meaningless “oh.”

When nothing came, Ben choked off an involuntary sound. “I don’t mean-” he started.

Hux spoke a moment later. “I know,” he muttered.

“I didn’t even finish talking,” Ben replied. It was his turn to be surprised, especially when Hux moved to slide Ben’s hand into his.

“You _like_ me,” Hux whispered. There was a reverence in his voice that Ben had only ever heard - and had harbored his resentment towards - while Hux waxed on about Phasma. Now though it was dawn breaking in the past week’s eternal night.

Ben nodded slowly, his heart in his throat and his hands and his trembling legs. Couldn’t Hux feel that?

It didn’t matter. Ben stopped worrying about looking nervous or feeling anxious. His brain effectively shut down when Hux walked him backwards with the force of his gaze alone. Ben’s back hit the wall. Then, with a slowness that rivalled the movements of tectonic plates, Hux leaned up on tiptoe to press his lips to Ben’s.

The stars aligned. Nothing else in the whole fucking universe mattered. Ben tugged Hux’s hands to his waist and moved to take another kiss. Hux wanted him, or at least wanted Ben to want him. He’d ask questions later. Right now all that mattered was them, alone together in a forgotten hallway.


End file.
